My little non-baby has fingers and human-like reflexes!
Well, thank the stars. I would be worried if my non-baby had reflexes that were not human-like.
Geesh, really?
Speaking of worry…
Did you know that some pregnant women suffer from “an intense craving for – and eating of – non-food items, such as soil, clay, laundry starch, ice, ashes, plaster, paint chips, and coffee grounds” otherwise known as PICA?
THE BAD NEWS:
I am now enduring ingenious mock-pregnancy symptoms that execute the most egregious warning sign-
DO NOT HAVE A BABY. YOU WILL SUFFER FROM:
- Fatigue
- Excessive saliva
- Flatulence
- Increased sense of smell
- Increased vaginal discharge
- Occasional headaches
Dream if you will, a picture. (…of you and I engaged in a kiss…) You’re singing Prince’s song, aren’t you? Ok, back to it:
Dream if you will, a picture.
My Mr. Right arrives home to his previously stunning, ordinary-functional wife (yes- this is me), who is now wearing a big fat lovely tire – called a non-baby- on her mid-ruff while chewing on the walls and persistently farting.
Thank god the severe desire to urinate dwindles after your first trimester!
Will I really become a FAT, farting, freaky leaky woman? Or, will I just wonder if my growing belly is a baby boy or girl?
My Mr. Right always professes that he wants to shop in the pink aisle!
(Do not judge My Mr. Right)
THE GOOD NEWS:
I can still drink 5-7 glasses of wine a week while my non-baby’s fingers flutter in my belly.
I’ve found my selling-point with My Mr. Right, should I choose a baby-filled life.
Selling point number one for My Mr. Right:
1. You have to get a little procedure, um, just a tiny one. I’ll buy lots of frozen peas. We can also try the frozen strawberries?
2. You get to shop in the pink aisle!
By now, you are either loving me or hating me.
If you love me – I love you.
If you don’t love me – I apparently ate paint chips in the womb.
Seriously –
I really have no intention to trivialize the importance or toils of pregnancy. I have empathy for those who don’t have the option, for those who have had and lost and am thankful that I can even contemplate the question.
I am certainly more than a flippant-monkey-sock-wearing-freak.
Don’t you know? “Being flippant typically is a cover up for insecurity.”
(Nugget of knowledge from our last date night viewing of Noel Coward’s Private Lives.
A few things I realized while watching this play:
- I am full of self-doubt in the mama category
- I’m thankful for My Mr. Right (lots of arguing in this play)
- It’s interesting that a play by Noel Coward made me think of my own insecurity.
For all you b’morons – it’s the last weekend to catch the show.
Warning: Not intended for cowards or those with insecurity issues)
Phew! It’s been a very busy sham of a first trimester.
Filed under: babies, bachata, baltimore, cheers, childless by choice, cocktails, fertilization, frozen peas, genes, hoo-ha, no kidding, Not expecting, one-year-old, paint, parenting, pregnancy, pregnancy books, prunes, theatre, women Tagged: Family, food, Morning sickness, Pregnancy, Prince, Private Lives, theatre, trimester, weight
